Pleasure Notes

It rained last week, which I took as an excuse to barricade myself in my house. For days an entire day. I finally unchained my door to admit a friend who came bearing food and dvds. I got so crazy as to open up a can of soup that had been in the cupboard since 2002 instead of venturing out into the weather, finally understanding the true benefit of canned goods. I can only imagine the extremes to which people on the other coast have resorted to avoid the elements.

By Friday, my body was screaming to my mind, DO SOMETHING! MOVE!

I looked out the window, debating my choices.

by Agnes the Red/flickr

The forecast had predicted it would rain again. The sky was dark and cloudy. I was sleep deprived; the roar of downpours had kept me up half the night. I figured I had every reason not to twitch off the couch, much less stick my neck out into the world at large.

My body’s screaming got LOUDER!

I decided to risk the dangers inherent in venturing onto local roads during inclement moments; Los Angeles drivers transform into veritable drama queens when water darkens our asphalt.

I headed to the lake.

On the way to my habitual meditative retreat from urban chaos, a large raindrop shattered onto the surface of my windshield. It immediately became a civilization of droplets. I was struck by the pattern. Then I thought, I should turn back… But it’s only a drop… Another drop fell, a smaller one.

When was the last time you were soaked by the rain?

I realized I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened to me. My heart started beating a bit faster, in anticipation. Why not embrace the possibility of an experience I usually take pains to avoid?

I decided that if the skies should open up and drench me in harmless water acid rain, I would welcome it as an adventure.

The skies held their tears.

Instead, I shed some of my own. In awe.

The LIGHT took my breath away.

It was spectacular – crisp and flat. It transformed the glories of a three-dimensional world into a fanciful pop-up book of layers – the dew-dropped grasses sharply carved out and laid flat in front of the water, in front of the trees, in front of the tower, in front of the mountain, in front of the clouds.

Everything appeared new and special.

by chrislagarto/flickr

Then the crickets exploded into symphony, clearly rejoicing in the dampened earth and the scent of life that a hard rain brings to this town. I understood. And I was suddenly reminded of something I’d forgotten while slouched on my couch, obsessed with my navel…

Nature is my god. It never fails to restore me to my purest self.

When I make that connection, all other connections are possible. And I am happy.

What do you discover when you leave the house?

02-08-10

While the east coast gets hammered by snow, we here in Southern California are greeted by our own version of flurries. Delicate white petals fall in showers from the blooming fruit trees to blanket the side streets of Los Angeles almost as effectively as does the snow in D.C. It’s just a tad bit warmer here, and there’s no need for a shovel.

by Kristina B/flickr

I’m just dropping in briefly to address a question I’ve been asked only about a hundred times in the past month or so… No, I did not trash my blogroll of fabulous blogs and websites that I wholeheartedly support. I simply moved it from the sidebar to a page of its own. So, if you’re curious, check out my Pleasure Spots – entirely dedicated to active sites I can’t live without. Oh, and yes, I update it fairly frequently because there are so many amazing people with whom to fall in love!

Any other questions?

xo

I’m not exactly the most renown fashion maven in Los Angeles. In fact, putting me and “fashion” in the same sentence rarely occurs, unless “bad” is also somehow involved. However, every once in a while I surprise myself and everyone around me by actually putting together an ensemble that wouldn’t horrify my less fashion-challenged Hollywood compatriots. That being said, I’m basically a jeans and t-shirt kind of gal or, more accurately, a yoga pants and t-shirt kind of gal. And so I have an enduring love affair with the most awesome of wardrobe-providing websites: Threadless. Let me just highlight a few reasons I’ve fallen head over heels with something that might actually be considered – gasp! – hip...

From Threadless.com

OMG! Isn’t it the cutest thing ever? I mean, really, who wouldn’t be over the moon for this design by Budi Satria Kwan? I admit I’m extremely partial to the moon, and I’ve always thought cows get a bum rap, but really, doesn’t this Fail t-shirt just make you immediately think of milk and cookies? And what could be better than that, FROM A T-SHIRT no less?

by Budi Satria Kwan/threadless.com

Well, the stuck cow might not agree. I kinda feel sorry for him, don’t you? He looks like a “Bob.” Hope you find your way down, Bob. I’m rooting for you!

by Ross Zietz/threadless.com

I become even more impassioned about endangered species than cows, however. Surprising, I know. Which is why I adore Ross Zietz’ Pandamonium. Quite a profound little statement he’s captured with his design, don’t you think? It gets me all riled up, I tell you! And the panda is so damn cute!

by Lucas de Alcantara/threadless.com

Laughter is the best salve when my emotions get hot. I don’t think you even have to be a Star Wars fan to get a chuckle from Lucas de Alcantara’s clever creation. If only we all could be so transformed with a simple New Hairstyle.

by T.J. Zhang/threadless.com

Bangs may not bring about world peace, but flowers put a smile on almost anyone’s face, even the ones in those little tanks who are bent on hurting that poor panda above. You, my lovely readers, are already familiar with how much I love blooming things, so just image how giddy I was to discover T.J. Zhang’s Blooming tee. It about sent me over the moon all over again!

I swear, if Bambi’s mom had gotten a prom picture, this would have been it!

To be fair, I’ve just pointed out my favorite designs. There are plenty of other graphics on the site that might float your boat with more bounce, so go explore (if you are so inclined). The thing I like best about this company is that it is community-based, meaning the Threadless.com membership/readership creates all the graphics, and design decisions are based on community feedback.

Like a big ole Love-In commune for cool t-shirts.

Do you have a favorite t-shirt graphic, from anywhere? Do tell!

As often as possible, I take a long walk near a reservoir in the hills of Hollywood. I frequently see coyotes, deer, rabbits, and hawks; it is my foray into nature in the midst of urban chaos. Like a meditation, the journey clears my head. Frequently, I have an epiphany about some challenge in my life. I never thought my jaunt in nature would provide such an illuminating teaching metaphor, however, as has been shown to me the past few weeks.

About two weeks ago, we had a nasty bit of heavy rains and winds in what is normally sunny SoCal. During these storms, many trees were felled. Once such tree happened to land across the path I take, effectively blocking the trail. It is not a catastrophe, except for the tree. Everyone simply must walk around it, returning to the path after skirting the dead branches.

an obstacle

Every day for the past two weeks, I approached this tree as I headed up the hill at the beginning of my walk, lamented its mighty fall and nimbly avoided entanglement. And every day for the past two weeks, on my return down the hill, I would suddenly RUN INTO THE TREE and stop, startled. I would then chuckle at myself, backtrack a few steps, and go around the obstacle.

Every. Single. Day. Why?

I realized that, very shortly after beginning my walk, I stopped looking ahead. Instead, I looked at a spot on the ground about three feet in front of me and my thoughts were not on what my eyes were seeing. I also realized that I do this ALL THE TIME. It is a metaphor for my life.

I do not see ahead. I become preoccupied with what is directly in front of me. I lose sight of the bigger picture, of the whole journey. I do not keep my chin up.

On a whim, I tried a little experiment. I consciously walked the entire forty-five minute trip while looking straight ahead, at eye level. It was INCREDIBLY difficult. My eyes kept wanting to drop. My head kept wanting to drop. My chin kept wanting to drop.

I noticed that almost everyone I passed was looking only three feet ahead, at the ground. I began to notice that the same behavior is evident everywhere. We don’t look ahead. We don’t look out.

the view

But I saw so much beauty when I kept my chin up. A bird’s nest I would have missed. Shades of green only obvious at a distance. Contrasts of color and light. And it made me wonder.

How much am I missing of my life when I only look three feet in front of me and my head is down?

I’m going to continue trying to change the way I walk. I may step in a couple piles of dog shit, but I think that is probably the only down side to this endeavor. I’ll let you know if I have another epiphany.

How do you walk? And how does it reflect the way you walk through life?